RESIDENT EVIL: THE LUIS SERA TRILOGY
by Adam Nickels
Summary: This is a story of my making about what happens to Luis in Resident Evil 4, with a twist. I defer to the main storyline in this one, so keep your pants on. Enjoy!
1. BOOK 1: LUIS' PERSPECTIVE

TITLE: RESIDENT EVIL 4: LUIS' PERSPECTIVE: BOOK ONE OF THE SERA TRILOGY

AUTHOR: ADAM NICKELS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a novelization of Resident Evil 4, with a twist. It is written in the perspective of Luis Sera. Although many of you know what happens to Luis, I am going to defer from the actual storyline in this one. Fans of this story should also check out my short story, _Resident Evil: The Story Continues._ TSC chronicles what happens to many of our favorite characters after this story concludes. I will call this book one in the Sera Trilogy. Oddly enough, I started on part two before I started on part one. Oh, well. It all turned out for the best.

That being said, enjoy the story!

Adam Nickels

PROLOGUE: OLD MAN SADDLER

Luis Sera sighed with contentment, happy to finally get to his cabin. Old man Saddler had worked him extra hard today. He had finally figured out the social pattern of the Las Plagas parasite. The parasite evidently communicated with others through a master Plaga.

His thoughts turned to the moral issues involved. The old man was trying to take over the world by infecting many people with the Las Plagas parasite. The parasite would then hatch, and then the unfortunate host would be under the sway of Saddler himself. He decided to call his old college buddy Ramon and tell him about everything. The old man and his creepy experiments and false religious beliefs would finally get his comeuppance.

Also, Saddler had kidnapped the President of the United States' young daughter, Ashley Graham. He planned to inject her with a Plaga and hold her for ransom. When the Plaga hatched, she would do his evil bidding by killing her father.

Luis admitted to himself that his fascination with Las Plagas had blinded him to the true intent of the old man and his creepy cult, the Los Illuminados. He had to put a stop to the madness.

He picked up the phone and began to dial.

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CHAPTER ONE: REVELATION

Luis ran for his life, clutching a small purple sample of the Las Plagas virus. He was trapped inside a medieval castle owned by Ramon Salazar, one of the many minions of Osmund Saddler.

He rounded a corner and saw the door. _Freedom is finally mine!_

He burst through the door and crossed the drawbridge leading away from the castle. He hightailed it toward his cabin, about a mile away.

When he got there, he was very surprised to find a very beautiful Asian woman dressed in red sitting on his bed. Then, he remembered.

"You must be the woman I talked to on the phone. The one who said she could get me out."

"That would be me," she said, flipping a strand of hair out of her eyes. "My name is Ada Wong, and I have a job for you before we leave."

"And what would that be?" he said.

_Wow, she is really up front with things. I wonder if she has a boyfriend._

"I need you to get the master sample of the Plagas parasite. That puny one in your hand just won't work."

"How do you know about Las Plagas?" Luis asked.

"I read your material. Interesting, really. They can communicate through a master Plaga. And that's what I need."

"Why do you…" Luis started, but was cut off.

"That is immaterial. I just need the sample. We are dependant on each other. I need you for the sample, and you need me to get the hell out of here. You see, we can work together on this."

"Whatever."

"See you around," the woman said. She jumped out the second-story window, landing on her feet like a cat, and ran off into the darkness.

_Wow, she's pretty hot. I doubt that she has a boyfriend. Although, I can see a spark in her eyes like she has her eye on someone. I wonder just who that someone is._

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Luis was backed into a corner by two evil-looking Ganados. The Los Ganados were the unfortunate victims of the Las Plagas parasite.

_I'm up shit creek without a paddle, that's for sure._

"Hey, guys. What's up?" he intoned, trying to throw them off so he could escape.

"¡Dale, mi amigo!" the larger one said to the smaller one.

The smaller one approached slowly. Just then, loud footsteps sounded behind them. They both turned to face the unexpected interruption, groaning when they saw who it was.

It was the big cheese.

Bitores Mendez, the chieftain of a village situated around the church of the Los Illuminados, stepped into the light, his massive form blocking out the sunlight streaming through the narrow window in one corner of the small room.

_He is one big son of a bitch. He must be at least eight feet tall. I'd hate to get into a fight with him, that's for sure._

Then, the chief spoke. "You have become unpleasant to our eyes, Sera. My orders are to take you in for questioning by Lord Saddler. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard way. You choose."

_Easy way, my ass. I'm not going down without a fight._

He tensed himself, ready to fight.

With astonishing speed, Mendez closed the gap between them, unloading a massive punch straight to the forehead of Luis Sera. Luis reeled, thrown backward by the punch.

_Mother FUCKER!_

Everything went black.

Mendez snapped his fingers, and the two beefy Ganados picked up Luis and carried him off.

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CHAPTER TWO: THE AMERICAN PIG

When Luis woke up he tried to open his eyes. Then, he realized that his eyes _were_ open.

_What the hell? Where am I?_

Wherever he was, it was really dark and really mildewy. He tried to step forward only to have his face slam into a door just inches in front of him.

_Ow, hijo de puta! I must be inside some sort of closet._

He tried to move his hands, only to find that they were bound behind him.

_Damn. I hope someone comes to get me before I die of dehydration or suffocation or some kind of fucking –ation._

He decided that he would be perfectly still and listen for any approaching men.

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Hours later, he perked up. He had heard gunshots coming from outside, followed by screams of pain and dynamite exploding.

_None of the Ganados use guns...that means that someone is here to rescue me!_

He started banging on the closet door with his knees, grunting with the effort. He heard two more dynamite blasts, and the scraping of furniture being moved away.

The door of the armoire fell open.

Luis, with no way of catching himself, fell on his back, onto the floor of the cabin he was in. He gave his eyes time to adjust to the brilliant light. Then, he saw his savior. He was holding a gun on him. Luis began shaking his head and shouting (albeit muffled), trying to signal that he was, in fact, human, and not like _them._

The man nodded and ripped the tape from Luis' mouth.

"Ach! A little rough, don't you think?" Luis asked of the man. He began to take in details about him now. He was about six-foot-one, 175 pounds, dirty blonde hair, and blue eyes.

_Wow. I bet he has no trouble with the ladies, that's for sure._

"You're not…like them?" Luis asked him.

"No, you?"

When the man untied him, Luis rolled over and worked the blood into his wrists.

Luis said, "OK, I have only one very important question. Got a smoke?"

"Got gum."

Suddenly, Luis heard the low growling of two Ganados. They stepped into the light, blood-stained and dirty.

Then, he heard the loud footsteps that were so familiar to him. The chief was coming.

"Perfect. The big cheese," he said to Leon, groaning with exasperation.

"What?" asked the man, puzzled.

The chief stood between the two Ganados, towering above them. His red false eye gleamed in the semi-darkness.

Wasting no time, the blonde man sprung forward and spun, preparing to deliver a walloping roundhouse kick that would rival that of Chuck Norris. Unfortunately, that kick never landed.

Mendez grabbed the man's shoe with lightning speed. The man gasped in surprise, and then that look turned to fear as he realized what Mendez was going to do. Mendez looked at the man for a moment, and then flipped him high into the air, sailing right toward Luis.

_Madre de..._

Luis never got to finish the sentence.

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Wha…?

Luis was being nudged awake by the blonde man. Luis took in his surroundings, recognizing them as the cliff dwelling situated near the chief's house.

"Aye! Crawl out of one hole, and into another," Luis said with more than a little disdain.

Luis tried to stand up, only to find that his hands were tied to the other man's.

"¿Americano, sí? What brings a bloke like you to these parts?" The man tried to break free and painfully twisted Luis' hand. "Hey! Easy, whoever you are!"

"My name's Leon. I'm here looking for this girl. You seen her?" Luis looked at the photo in Leon's outstretched hand. "Let me guess. She's the president's daughter."

"That's too good for a guess. You mind explaining?"

"Psychic powers. No, I'm just kidding you, mi amigo. I heard some of the villagers talking."

"And just who might you be?"

_Should I tell him what I do? No, I'll tell him that I was a police officer. After all, I was._

"Me llamo Luis Sera. I was a police officer in Madrid, and quite the ladies man, I might add."

Leon scoffed and shook his head. "Why'd you quit?"

Luis either didn't get the joke or chose to ignore it. "Policía, you put your life on the line every day, and for what? Now, I'm just a good for nothing guy who is out looking for some fun. Say, are you some kind of cop? Nah, you don't look the type."

"Maybe. I was a cop. Only for a day, though."

"And I thought I was bad."

The man scoffed again. "Somehow, I managed to get myself tangled up in the incident Raccoon City…my first day on the force."

Luis shot Leon a look of recognition. "That's the incident with the viral outbreak, no? I think I may have seen a sample of the virus back at the lab…

Too late, Luis realized that he had let something slip.

Before Leon could reply, a bang came from down the hallway. A disgruntled, bloodstained villager carrying a battleaxe stepped into view. It was clear what he was going to do.

_SHIT! I don't want to die!_

"Do something, cop!" Luis screamed at Leon. "You first!" was the reply.

"NOW!" Leon shouted. They pulled apart, the axe slicing cleanly through the ropes that they were bound with. Luis took one look at Leon, then turned and ran, leaving Leon to fend for himself.

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CHAPTER FOUR: HOME AGAIN

Luis found himself running once again, this time, away from a pack of female Ganados.

_These bitches just won't stop!_

He passed the church of the Los Illuminados, hearing the pitiful screams of the girl inside. He stopped for a breather near the church door. He seemed to have lost the Ganados…for now.

_That poor girl...I wish there was more I could do to help. But she's Leon's problem now, and from what I hear, she's quite a brat._

Luis ran through the tunnel pass and out the other side, into the village. A horrendous smell assaulted his nose.

_Good God, what died?_

He looked around an located the source of the smell. He finally found it. Unfortunately.

The decaying body of a Spanish Policía was impaled on a long curved spike in the middle of a bonfire. The cop's torso and legs were completely burnt, and his face was twisted in agony and starting to catch fire. Luis turned away from the scene in disgust.

_Barbaric bastards. I hope that doesn't happen to me._

Luis took a path to the right that took him near a large watch tower used by various Ganado lookouts. He squinted upwards. No one was in sight. He continued on down the path to a large set of double doors and opened them with a grunt.

He stepped into a farm area, taking in the scenery. A two-story barn with a fence surrounding it was in front of him. A feed building was to his left. A windmill turned slowly in the slight wind.

_This could be a tranquil place were it not for that crazy old fuck Saddler. I'd better get a move on if I want to make it home to rendezvous with Ada._

To his far left, he could make out two cows chewing their cud lazily. As he passed, one of them looked up at him mooed, a low, mournful sound.

_Jeez, even the cows seem depressed._

As Luis passed the cows, another unspeakable smell assaulted his nostrils. He looked around and finally found the source of the smell.

A wheelbarrow was pushed up against a building near the back fence. Inside the wheelbarrow were bodies of countless humans in various stages of decomposition. A pair of legs drooped over the side, feet dangling from bloody stumps by skin and sinew.

_Damn, that's gross. If they're going to kill people, the least they could do is give them a proper burial._

He turned and walked again, coming upon another massive set of double doors. He pushed them open and stepped through.

Luis found himself in front of a bridge running over a deep gully. He could see his cabin in the distance. He felt moisture hitting his skin. It had begun to rain.

He ran toward his house. When he got there, he slammed the door and walked upstairs into his bedroom. He sat down at his desk and began to write:

_There are some parasites that have the ability to control their hosts. It's basic knowledge among biologists but not much is known as to how the parasites do it. Studying these parasites specifically might reveal some clues to as to how the powers of the Las Plagas work. And perhaps provide more insight on the victims of the Las Plagas, the Los Ganados. _

_Here is a list of some of the parasites that have the ability to manipulate the behavioral patterns of their host:_

_Dicrocoelium - Once the larvae of this parasite migrates to the ant's esophagus, it alters the behavior of the ant. When the temperature drops in the evening, the infected ant climbs to the top of a plant and clamps onto a leaf using its mandible. It stays there immobile until the next morning, placing the ant where it's most vulnerable to be eaten by a browsing herbivore such as a sheep. One could conclude that the parasite is manipulating the host's behavior to its way into the body of its definitive host._

_Galactosomum - The larvae of this parasite makes its home inside the brain of a fish such as the yellowtail and the parrot bass. Once infected, the fish make their way up to the water's surface where they'll swim until eaten by seabirds. Once again, the peculiar behavior can only be explained by the parasite's desire to get into the bodies of the seabirds._

_Leucochlordium - This parasite's sporocysts develop in the snail's tentacles. The sporocysts are vivid in color and pulsate continually somewhat like a worm. Surprisingly the infected snail makes its way to the top of a plant where it is most visible to the eyes of birds, therefore more likely to be eaten. Once eaten by a bird, the parasite will complete its metamorphosis into an adult._

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Luis looked at the clock. It was past ten.

_Man, have I been asleep that long? Better get downstairs and wait for Ada to show._

He was supposed to meet her at ten-thirty, so he ambled downstairs to wait. Just then, he heard the sound of the front door opening. He grabbed his gun and a plank of wood, ready to defend himself. Then, he saw the intruders.

Leon and Ashley stood in the middle of the kitchen. Ashley was dressed in an orange sweater and a short skirt that revealed the tight skin of her creamy thighs.

_Wow, she's a looker. I'd like to see the rest of her, that's for sure._

"Leon!" Luis exclaimed, throwing the plank of wood toward him. Leon caught the plank with one gloved hand, then slid it into the slots on either side of the door.

"Luis!" Leon said in surprise.

Luis looked at them for a moment and then said, "Small world, eh?"

"Who are you?" Ashley said in disgust, aiming her question toward Luis.

Luis looked her over and then replied, "And who might you be?"

"Ashley Graham. The president's daughter," she said matter-of-factly, as if he should already know.

Running his eyes over Ashley's ample chest, Luis said, "Ah, I see the president has equipped his daughter with ballistics, too!"

Ashley's eyes widened, and then narrowed in anger. "My figure has nothing to do with my standings!"

Bowing in mock fealty, Luis replied, "I'm sorry, your highness."

The look on Ashley's face turned from one of disgust to one of horror. "Leon, Look!" she screamed, pointing out the window. Luis turned with Leon to see what she was pointing at. His heart skipped a beat as he saw what was coming over the horizon.

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CHAPTER FIVE: RETURN TO CASTLE WOLF…ER…SALAZAR

Luis took one look out the window and decided what he was going to do. He walked toward a window next to the front door and pushed a heavy armoire in front of it.

Leon looked at Ashley and said, "Ashley, upstairs!"

"Yeah."

Luis opened the breach of his Red 9 handgun and reloaded quickly. Snapping the breach shut, he turned to Leon.

"Ok. It's game time."

The exited shouts of the Ganados became louder and louder as they came closer. Leon occupied himself by pushing more armoires and dressers in front of windows. Luis could hear the muffled shouts of the Ganados outside and prepared to defend his home.

One of the larger Ganados broke through the armoire in front of Luis. Luis took careful aim at it's head, loosening his hands on the grip.

_Remember, Luis, this isn't a video game. One hit and you will be killed. Make all of your shots count._

Luis fired at the Ganado's temple. And missed.

_Shit! After that pep talk and everything!_

He fired again. This time, the bullet struck the Ganado in the temple, sending bits of skin, bone, and hair splattering all over the painting next to the ruined armoire.

_Damn! That was a classic Picasso, too!_

The fighting went on for some time, until the Ganados on the bottom floor numbered too many.

"Upstairs!" Luis shouted to Leon.

Leon followed him upstairs. There, they made a stand against the tide of Ganados.

After what seemed an eternity, the steady flow of Ganados stopped. The two men rushed downstairs and looked out a window.

A beefy Ganado looked around at his ruined comrades and said, "Vamos!" His friends were all too happy to comply.

"That was a close one," Leon said.

_Tell me about it._

Luis looked out the window and spied a flash of red against the dull brown foliage.

Ada.

"I…forgot something. You guys go on ahead."

"Luis?" Leon said inquisitively.

Luis stepped out the door into the cold, wet night.

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"Ah, senorita! Got a light, and some smokes with it to make my day?" Luis said to Ada, beginning the conversation.

"Where's the sample?" Ada replied bluntly.

_Up front as usual._

"Ok, we'll skip the foreplay. As a matter of fact, I was just going to get it. Where is the love, baby?"

"I really need that sample. No matter what the cost."

"I get the point."

_Who does she work for?_

Luis asked, "Where do you stand in all of this?"

"Some things are better off not knowing. See you around."

With that final parting shot, Ada stepped over the rail and vanished into the night, leaving only the delicate scent of flowers in her wake.

_Women. I wonder who has her attention. She looks distracted._

Luis came upon a split path. He decided to take the right path. That was the way Leon went, and from his experience with Leon at the cabin, Luis knew that Leon could handle one oversized freak of nature.

Luis opened the door and stepped into a narrow canyon lined with shacks and mining equipment. In the middle of the path was an enormous humanoid creature.

The El Gigante was a by-product of the Las Plagas parasite. The phase 3 parasite had the ability to alter growth hormone, allowing the unfortunate hosts to grow exponentially, up to about 40 feet tall, and this specimen was no exception.

Luis skirted the massive abomination and ran out the door that exited into a conjoining area that held a few shacks, the gate to the castle, and a tram that took the rider to a mining site where the Las Plagas were excavated. The castle gate was Luis' destination, and he headed toward it.

As Luis reached the castle gate, he heard a massive _thump_ come from behind him. The ground shook. Luis knew he was in trouble. He turned and saw something that clearly was not made by Las Plagas.

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CHAPTER SIX: THE UMBRELLA LINK

Luis turned and took in the scene before him.

A helicopter hovered above him. On the side of it, he could clearly see the outline of a octagonal emblem. The word "UMBRELLA" was painted above the emblem.

_Umbrella! I know all about them! They caused the so called "zombie" viral outbreak in Raccoon City six years ago! But why are they here? To get a sample of Las Plagas?_

Then, the realization hit Luis like a ton of bricks.

Ada.

_She is working for Umbrella! That's why she's so intent to get a sample! Well, I won't let her get it, even if it means my ticket out of here is gone._

Lost in thought, Luis didn't think to find the source of the thumping noise. He looked down up and saw the tallest man he had ever seen, including Mendez. Luis barely came up to his belt buckle. He took in the man's features one at a time.

The man was wearing army issue combat boots, at least size 20. A trench coat ensconced his considerable bulk.

_Wow. At least twelve feet tall and still fat?! He must weigh at least a thousand pounds!_

Luis ran his eyes up to the man's face. He had impossibly white skin, a broad nose, and a sloping forehead leading up to a completely bald pate. The man had eyes, but as Luis looked into them, nothing looked back at him. No emotion, no recognition. Although Luis couldn't see a weapon on him, this man just _radiated_ malevolence.

Luis had had an idea of who or what this creature could be, but the bald head and blank stare had cinched it. This was Mr. X.

Mr. X was code name for Umbrella's first project in the field of bioweapons. The T-Virus spill in Raccoon City had been an accident, but Umbrella had bred these creatures to sniff out and eradicate any of the surviving members of the group who had uncovered Umbrella's involvement in the incident, S.T.A.R.S.

Mr. X was the first of many experiments in the production line known as "Tyrant." The Tyrant was a lab-bred bloodhound, capable of hunting certain scents down and eradicating their hosts.

Unfortunately for Luis, his scent was on the list.

_Holy PISS, I'm in trouble! Those things are nearly impossible to kill!_

Luis took out his gun and fired at the chest of the hulking man. The rounds found their mark, but the man kept coming toward him, not even acknowledging that Luis had shot him. Luis turned and ran through the door.

He came out the other side and saw that the drawbridge to the castle was slowly rising. Getting a running start, he jumped and barely caught the top of the bridge.

_Phew. Close one._

He rolled down the other side of the drawbridge and landed roughly on his head, knocking himself unconscious.

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When he came to, Luis immediately realized where he was. He was in the keep, or dungeon, of the medieval castle. He tried to stand up but, of course, he was restrained. Just as he was about to shout for help, the massive sliding door in front of him opened, and a man stepped in.

Well, man was a stretch. Even though Osmund Saddler was once a man, the master Plaga within him had turned him into something a bit more than human.

Luis scanned Saddler's wrinkled face, framed by receding blonde hair, and saw a look of anger and something else.

_Is that a smirk? Is the son of a bitch laughing at me?!_

Saddler walked fully into the room. Well over six feet tall, he was a force to be reckoned with. His royal purple robes swirled about him as he walked toward the clearly frightened Spaniard.

"So, Sera, you thought you could outsmart us. That you could outrun us. Clearly you underestimate our power. Now, despite all your rage, you are still just a rat in a cage…ah, what I mean to say is that now it is time to face your death. Goodbye, Sera."

With that, Saddler leaned backward, and from beneath his violet robes emerged something so horrible, Luis almost passed out from fright.

The thing looked like a long, slimy, muscular snake, except snakes don't have sharp bony blades for heads. The thing swayed left and right as if checking out Luis, and then went in for the strike.

Just then, the door opened a second time, and Ada ran in, TMP blazing. She clearly surprised Saddler, who turned with a look of astonishment on his face. Then, he started toward her.

"Luis, use this!" Ada shouted, and flung a pocketknife toward Luis. It hit the ground in front of him and skidded in his direction, coming to a halt near his boot.

When Luis had freed himself from his bonds, he took a minute to rub his wrists and ankles. Then, looking around, he spied a purple flash.

_Well, damn. This is too easy._

Luis walked over and pocketed the master Plaga sample along with some suppression pills, then turned and walked out the door, wary of any attackers.

He found himself exiting just past where they kept that hideous prisoner. He passed under an archway only to find the receding backs of Leon and Ashley. He watched her shapely rear sway to and fro for a moment before calling out to them.

"Leon!"

"Luis!"

"I got something for you guys." He searched his pockets, but came up with nothing but the coldness of the sample. He had lost the suppression pills.

"Aw, shit! I must have dropped it when I was running away from them!"

"Lost what?" Leon inquired of the man.

"Some pills to stop your convulsions," Luis replied, angry with himself. "Look, I know you have been coughing up blood."

Leon paused for a moment, then replied, "Yeah."

Luis pointed at Ashley. "And you?"

She looked pensive for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah."

"Dammit! That means the eggs have already hatched! I have to go back and the pills. You guys go on."

Ashley pulled away from Leon. "Let me come with you," she pleaded.

"No," Luis replied, "You stay with Leon." A trace of bitterness edged into his voice. "He's better with the ladies, I'm sure."

Leon took a breath, then asked, "Hey, why are you--"

Luis put up a hand to stop him. "It just makes me feel better. Let's just leave it at that."

Luis walked off into the darkness of the castle once more, without so much as a look behind him.

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After hours of fruitless searching, Luis finally found the small bottle of pills behind a suit of armor.

_First, I'll get these pills to Leon and Ashley. Then, I'll destroy this goddamn sample. Then, I can die in peace._

Luis had been around the castle more than most people, so he new all of the castle's tricks. He walked over to a tapestry with a candle holder next to it. He pulled the candle holder and the tapestry revolved, taking him with it. Luis was on his way to deliverance.

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CHAPTER SEVEN: DELIVERANCE

Luis opened the door just in time to see Leon's back recede away behind the door in front of him. He quickened his pace, eager to catch up to Leon.

Luis opened the door to the next area and saw Leon standing not more than ten feet from the door.

Holding both the pills and the sample up triumphantly, Luis shouted, "Leon! I got it!"

Just then, Luis felt a sharp pain in the small of his back. He immediately knew what was happening. Saddler and his demon snake-thing had come for revenge.

_Oh, mother FUCKER!_

He looked down and saw and heard the bony blade appendage rip through his chest with a disgusting wet tearing sound. Luis felt himself being lifted high up in the air, then dimly realized that he had been flung to the ground, and that he had dropped the sample.

The snake-thing receded into Saddler. He smirked, and then said, "Now that I have the sample, you serve me no purpose."

"SADDLER!" Leon screamed in anguish.

"I'll let my boy Salazar make sure you suffer the same fate." With that, he turned and exited the room.

Leon kneeled next to Luis and began to administer first aid, a futile gesture. "Stay with me, Luis."

Luis batted his hands away.

_Time to spill the beans._

"I…am a researcher. Hired by Saddler. He found out…what I was up to."

Leon became more frantic. "Don't talk." He tried once again to help the exsanguiating man. Once again, Luis batted his hands away.

"Take these." Luis held out the pills. "They will suppress growth of the parasite. The sample…Saddler took it. You must get it back."

With that, Luis slipped into near unconsciousness. Closing his eyes, he prepared for death to take him. He dimly heard Leon screaming his name, a long, mournful sound.

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For the next few minutes, Luis slipped in and out of consciousness. The next thing Luis saw was the face of a man in black robes and wearing a purple face mask.

_Am I hallucinating? Who is this guy?_

Then, the stranger spoke. He had a thick cockney accent. "I don't know who you are, stranger, but it looks like you are in quite a pickle. Allow me to help you."

With that, the man unrolled a medical kit. Luis faintly heard the clink of metal. He felt a mask being pushed over his face. Luis slipped into unconsciousness for the fifth time.

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When Luis came to again, he was surprised by the fact that he could sit up. He felt around him and saw a note next to him. The note read:

_Stranger, I have taken care of you. Take care not to overexert yourself, or you will bust your stitches. I have administered a topical anesthetic, but it won't last forever. I suggest you get the hell off this island immediately._

_Take care,_

_Merchant_

Luis felt a wave of gratitude wash over him.

_Whoever this merchant guy is, I sure owe him a drink._

He stood up, relieved that only a little pain registered.

_Better not try running. Let's just try to find Ada and get the hell out of here._

Luis thought about it for a while and finally decided to get to the castle rooftop, and when Ada flew by, he would signal her to come and pick him up.

He walked slowly to the ladder that led to the rooftop and began to climb.

TO BE CONTINUED…

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for sticking it out to the end. Please, feel free to give me feedback, both positive and negative. This story is continued in my story, _Resident Evil: The Story Continues._ In closing, I'd like to thank no one, because I did this story in secret, showing it to no one. However, my praise is shown in my second story, because I got a lot of help on that one.

Until Next Time,

Adam Nickels


	2. BOOK 2: THE STORY CONTINUES

RESIDENT EVIL: THE STORY CONTINUES: BOOK TWO OF THE SERA TRILOGY

BY: ADAM NICKELS

THIS STORY IS DEDICATED TO ALL THE HARDCORE FOLLOWERS OF THE RESIDENT EVIL/BIOHAZARD SERIES. I SALUTE YOU.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is Book 2 in the Sera Trilogy. That being said, I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Book 1. On with the story!

PART ONE: ZOMBIES DON'T RUN…

Albert Wesker didn't take any shit. The lead S.T.A.R.S. Alpha leader turned Umbrella field directions agent and general badass, he definitely didn't have time for the sniveling corporate middlemen that thought they know more than he did. As the chopper came back from the Illuminados mission, he thought of one of those middlemen, namely Alfred Ashford.

The son of the head of Umbrella, Ashford was appointed head of operations after his father died in the Raccoon City incident.

Wesker snapped back to reality as the chopper landed. A tall, Asian woman dressed in red climbed out. In her hand she held a silver biohazard box.

Ada Wong's mission in Spain was to secure a sample of a virus called Las Plagas from a religious cult named Los Illuminados. Little did Wesker know that Ada was a double agent, working for a rival pharmaceutical company code-named "S." She switched the viral sample with a vial of water and gave the real one to the director of operations for S, Ozwell E. Spencer, the former owner of Umbrella.

Wesker, oblivious to this, accepted the bio box with a devilish grin, a rarity that few people ever witness.

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Meanwhile in Africa, things are heating up as Chris Redfield, one-time S.T.A.R.S. Bravo leader, continues his mission to bring down Umbrella once and for all. U.S. intelligence shows that Umbrella is building a research lab in a remote part of Africa. Chris' job is to infiltrate the lab and destroy any intelligence that he can find.

Unbeknownst to him, the lab is not the property of Umbrella, but is owned and operated by S. as far as security goes, the lab is guarded by lab-bred Ganados, infected by a cross-species strain of the Las Plagas virus secured by Ada in Spain and a modified version of the Progenator/T-Virus. These deadly creatures, Christened Zanados, are a mix of the best traits of both of the species. The speed and intelligence of the Plagas-infected Ganados combined with the uncanny hunting abilities and superhuman endurance of the Progenator zombies makes for one formidable enemy.

This was the farthest thing from Chris' mind as he walked through the deserted street of a small rural town in Zaire. He thought he had left the horror of flesh-eating zombies behind after the incident at the Spencer mansion. He was dead wrong.

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Wesker sat at his computer in the heart of the Hive II, a rebuilt version of the destroyed Raccoon City Facility. The Hive was a research lab, built by Umbrella and funded by the U.S. Government to research the human gene (Albeit illegally). He tapped a few keys and a map of the world with lights flashing in different locations popped up. The lights indicated the location of each of the remaining survivors of the Raccoon City incident and their threat level, red being the most threatening and white being the least. He clicked on one and the complete file on Chris Redfield flashed on screen. He was a moderate threat to Umbrella, as his mission was to destroy Umbrella once and for all.

Wesker scratched his head, puzzled as to why Chris would be in Africa. He pulled up a real-time satellite image of the area in which Chris was and was surprised to find that nearby was a modern building. He was even more puzzled to find Ada Wong exiting the building, red dress flapping in the breeze.

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Chris entered a building with a sign that said, simply, "Hotel." Seeing a man lying on a cot in the corner, he spoke up. "Excuse me, sir, but could you direct me to the new place they're building?" The man didn't reply, so Chris raised his voice. "Hey, man, are you OK?" said Chris, concern creeping into his voice.

"He has been sick for two days now," said a voice behind him. Chris turned to see a withered old Negro with pale hair staring at him from behind old wire-frame glasses. "What do you mean, sick?" Chris replied. "He returned from hunting in the west with tales of a gleaming building stretching across the plains," was the reply. "He also said there were guards who ran at him incredibly fast, and one of them bit him on the arm. I wouldn't believe him, though. He is known to be a liar."

Chris' mind was spinning, wrapping around this new information. Bitten on the arm? Prolonged sickness? Building owned by Umbrella? Sounds like…

"HOLY SHIT! THEY'RE AFTER ME!" came a frantic cry from outside. Chris rushed outside, pushing past the old man. He was confronted with a scene reminiscent of 10 years ago.

A man was being chased down the street by a pack of shirtless Negroes carrying sickles and axes. Upon closer inspection, some of them were missing chunks of flesh, but from their wounds flowed no blood. One of them was dragging half of his leg behind him, held on by tendons and sinew. The man managed to run up a ladder and hide in the shadow of an overhang on a rooftop.

"Zombies don't run," Chris said to himself, but everything he was seeing contradicted his thinking. "Maybe it's a new strain of the Progenator virus," he said to himself.

Unfortunately, he didn't get to dwell on the subject, as more and more infected men and women were issuing forth from the surrounding buildings. Chris ran back into the hotel, directly into the path of the man who was lying down before.

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Wesker watched as Ada stuffed wads of cash into a briefcase, got into a low-slung sports car, and drove away. It didn't take a bioengineer (which is what Wesker was) to figure out that Ada was working for that company that was based in that building.

"Krauser!" barked Wesker impatiently. From the shadows stepped forth a medium-height stocky man dressed in army fatigues and tossing a knife impatiently. "Yes, sir?" he said in a husky voice.

"Go find Ada and kill her," was his orders. "I've been waiting on that order ever since she almost killed me," thought Jack Krauser as he sheathed his knife and prepared to leave for Africa. "I only wish that fag Leon Kennedy was with her. I could kill two lovebirds with one knife. Oh, well. I'll be seeing him soon enough." Krauser turned to leave.

"And one more thing," Wesker said from behind him. Krauser paused and turned to face his boss. "If you find that menace to society Redfield, take him out as well. But do it with the least amount of fuss. We don't want the media all over this one like they were at Raccoon City. I want this to be low profile."

"YES, SIR!" shouted Krauser, beret tilted jauntily to one side, knife blade flashing in the sunlight as he turned to leave.

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Chris realized that he was trapped as soon as the zombie-things blocked his escape route. "Only one way out of this one," he thought as he unsheathed his knife, testing its edge. He slashed his way through the first wave of undead, Special Forces training overtaking his body. He ran out into the street, shouting to the man who was being chased before. "Is there any other escape route?" Chris yelled to him. "The south alleyway will take you out of the town, but there are more of "them" out there," was the reply.

"I guess I'll have to take a chance," he said to no one in particular. "I wouldn't," said a voice behind him. He turned to face a woman dressed in a red dress and holding a Blacktail 9MM pistol. "And just who are you?" Chris asked. "My name is Ada Wong…" but the rest was drowned out as another man was consumed by the lurking zombie menace. "You better come with me," she said, "Because it's about to get hairy around here." "And you can come, too!" she shouted up at the man on the roof. "OK!" came the reply. The man jumped down and Chris could finally get a closer look.

The man had long, stringy hair and a Spanish accent. He was wearing a multicolored vest and faded gray trousers. He showed the beginnings of a scar on the top of his chest, revealed by the unbuttoned top button of his shirt. He held a 9MM Red 9 semiautomatic pistol in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. He unscrewed the cap to the bottle of pills and took two, grunting with the effort of swallowing the pills without aid of liquid.

"So, where are we going this time, my lady?" said Luis Sera as he checked his pistol for rust spots.

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Jack Krauser looked at the threesome through the window of their hotel in Mombasa. He considered shooting them outright with his rifle from long range, but Wesker wanted this to be low profile. As he put away his binoculars, he thought of what Ada had put him through during his stay on the island in Spain.

Ada had wounded him mortally, his arterial blood spraying in an arc high above the steel structure on which oil was refined, financing the Los Illuminados cult. Luckily, a traveling merchant came along with healing herbs just in the nick of time, saving him from an untimely death.

His thoughts returned to the matter on hand, namely killing three people silently. He didn't really know Luis Sera, for Luis was a researcher and not a mercenary like Krauser. His orders were to kill Ada and Chris, but since Luis was in the way, he might as well take him out, too. "It'll tie up some loose ends that old man Saddler left behind when he died, anyway."

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The three fugitives sat together in the cramped room of Hotel Zanzibar in Mombasa, discussing their history and why they wanted to take down Umbrella. We know the stories of Chris and Ada but now let's hear the story of how Luis survived a Las Plagas attack.

After Leon left him for dead, Luis, in a last-ditch effort, called out to the merchant nearby. "Please. Help me," he said, weak from blood loss. "Here, stranger, take this," said the merchant, handing him a medical repair kit and herbs. "After thanking the merchant for his kindness, Luis proceeded to leave the island with Ada, via helicopter.

"And that's how I got here today. I only wish my good friend Leon could see me today. Too bad he's working on his assignment to protect the president's family…" His words were cut short as he saw a door open a fraction of an inch out of the corner of his eye. He got up to investigate.

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"Say cheese!" the photographer said as the camera flashed illuminated the faces of the President's family. Leon stood close by, watching the surroundings for possible attackers. "Can't afford to let Ashley out of my sight again." A government official he recognized as Secretary of State James Smallwood approached him, usual goofy grin illuminating his stubble-shadowed face. "Hey, Leon, good news. You've been reassigned!"

Two days later, Leon found himself sitting in the co-pilot seat of a Blackhawk chopper destined for Mombasa, Zaire. His orders were to find Chris Redfield and tell him that the viral research lab was not Umbrella's, but S'.

As the chopper touched down at Hotel Zanzibar, Leon checked his knife's edge and sheathed the 12" blade. He exited the chopper and made his way to the front door of the hotel.

"Chris Redfield," he said to the desk attendant. "Room 1408," was his reply. As Leon knocked on the door of room 1408, he heard a tremendous crash emanating from the interior of the room. He kicked the door in to find a scene reminiscent of two years ago.

Chris Redfield was in the midst of a battle between Ada Wong and…

"NO FUCKING WAY! I KILLED YOU!" Leon yelled, startling Krauser and Ada. "Well, I guess you couldn't get enough the last time. Well, I'm ready for round two!" Leon unsheathed his knife only to be bowled over by a man stepping from the shadows.

There was a flash of light, then the sound of breaking glass as Krauser jumped out of the second-story window. Leon turned to face the man he ran into, then gasped when he realized whom it was. "Luis! I thought you were dead!" Luis replied, feigning a Cockney accent, "No, a merchant was kind enough to give a stranger a hand." They laughed heartily at this, their laughter ringing throughout the hotel.

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Wesker noticed that the dots for two Raccoon City survivors were in the same place as Redfield, Ada, and Krauser were, so he got suspicious. He pulled up a satellite image of the area, only to find a broken window with Krauser limping off into the surrounding shrubbery. "Damn," he said in irritation, pissed at the fact that Krauser couldn't follow the simplest orders. "I'll have to kill him myself. Bobby, could you send for Krauser?" This last part was directed toward his secretary, Robert Johansson. "Sure thing boss!" was the reply. "Also, reboot the Tyrant program. This time, make him target all moderate-to-severe threat level personnel in Africa. Release him near Mombassa."

"Sure thing, boss!"

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PART TWO: A PAIN IN THE "S"

The four comrades drove toward the S facility in Ada's 4-door sports car. As Leon and Luis traded stories about President's daughters and the fall of Los Illuminados, Ada and Chris sat silently in the front seats. About an hour later, they came upon the outer perimeter of the S compound. "I can already smell the stench of Las Plagas," said Luis, eyes flashing in the moonlight.

"You can smell it?" asked Leon. "When you spend almost two years around the shit, you can't really avoid smelling it," replied Luis. "Let's go," said Leon in an authoritative way. "Does anyone have a smoke?" implored Luis of the people in the group. No one did.

When the foursome reached the complex's gates, a padlock impeded them. Leon fortunately had a lock pick on him. Offering it to Chris, he said, "Take this lock pick for you are the master of unlocking." Chris replied, "No, you're thinking of Jill Valentine. I can't pick locks worth a shit."

A report sounded from behind them. The lock simply exploded in front of their eyes. They whirled around and saw Luis standing there, gun smoking. "Americans can never match the cunning and wittiness of a Spaniard."

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About ten miles away, in a desolate strip of land, an Umbrella chopper landed, stirring the dust around the landing site. Albert Wesker climbed out and went around to the back hatch, opening it with a flick of his wrist. In the chopper sat a hulking piece of flesh that was once human. An overload of the Progenator virus mixed with the G-Virus, Nemesis was Umbrella's death machine. Fully equipped with a HUD and a vast array of weapons, with nearly impenetrable armor plates surgically implanted, the brute squeezed its ten-foot, 500-pound frame out of the back hatch of the helicopter, breathing heavily. "Autokill Program Download Complete," read the screen on Wesker's laptop.

Wesker climbed back into the chopper, which whirred away into the pitch-black night.

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As the four survivors approached the doorway of the S complex, an alarm sounded. "¡Mierda!" spat Luis. From all four sides, Zanados converged upon them, swearing in Swahili. The four friends drew their guns and prepared to fight.

A particularly large Zanado attacked the group first, spittle flowing from his bloodthirsty mouth. Luis spun and fired at its temple, sending glistening arterial blood and brain matter arching through the air, colliding with the wall behind it with a heavy splatter. The Zanado was thrown backwards by the force of the blast, landing bodily between two hedges at the border of the building. The remaining Zanados converged upon them, and they dispatched them in the same manner.

Panting heavily, the troupe walked over to the door and opened it with Leon's lock pick. During Leon's retraining at the Academy, they taught him a little bit about picking locks. He demonstrated this skill by opening the door in an amazing 30 seconds!

The group entered the building not knowing what was in store for them. What happened to them was nothing that they had ever expected. For they were intent on recovering the Las Plagas and Progenator samples and destroying them, but they came upon a problem that no one could have foreseen.

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Stretching its limbs in a full run, Nemesis checked its weapons for any problems and found none. It checked its map for targets and found three approximately ten miles away, near a large structure. With a mechanical squeak, Nemesis turned on its heel and silently strode off, homing in on the positions where the four people were.

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The four people walked in a tight-knit huddle down the hallway, guns drawn. A footstep sounded behind them. Leon pivoted and fired. The Zanado was thrown to the side by the shot, bullet piercing its left shoulder. A second shot by Chris's Desert Eagle shattered the occipital plate of the Zanado's skullcap. Pink frothy exit spray issued forth from the unfortunate abomination's head, followed by a great rush of blood and gray matter as the heart drove the last bit of hemoglobin from its body. The group was out of sight before the body touched the cold concrete.

"You shouldn't have done that," said a voice around the corner. "Who are you?" asked Ada of the young female voice. "The more proper question is 'What am I'," was the reply.

From the shadows flashed a holographic representation of a little girl, approximately age nine. "I am the Red Queen, the security system for this fine complex. I am made in the image of Mr. Spencer's daughter, Alexis. My job is to stop you from getting further. WEAPONS! ARMED!"

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As Nemesis neared the location, it could almost smell the stench of the fugitives. It longed to get there sooner, for Nemesis was a beast designed to kill and enjoy doing it, a real killing machine. From the interior of the building, it heard screams and rapid gunfire. Quickening its pace, not wanting to miss out on the killing, Nemesis strode quickly toward the complex.

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"Weapons! Oh, SHIT!" spat Luis as the group started running forward, straight through the hologram of the Queen. Automatic gun turrets lowered from the ceiling, spitting gunfire toward the unfortunate group. Leon yelped as a slug grazed his left shoulder.

Suddenly, the wall to the left of them burst open, and like a grotesque Kool-Aid man, Nemesis stepped through. All of the members of the group had heard enough about the abomination to know what it was. They were truly between a rock and a hard place as the machine guns behind them and the Nemesis ahead of them sandwiched them in. Thinking quickly, Leon bashed a door to a research lab in and motioned the group to follow.

They quickly barricaded themselves in with bookshelves and furniture. Only then did they take in their surroundings. Everyone gasped as they took in what was in front of them.

In an enormous glass cylinder, in a purple transparent liquid, floated a woman wearing a hospital gown. Taking a closer look, Chris was immensely surprised to find that it was his old partner, Jill Valentine, staring back at him from the depths of the purple haze!

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PART THREE: WRENCH IN THE SYSTEM

The Rasputin-Like Village Chief was bearing down on Leon, coming closer and closer to where he crouched. Ashley squealed as she sighted the man barreling toward them. Leon checked his guns only to find that they had disappeared. He screamed in terror as the Chief drew back his fist, ready to unload a massive punch.

"Leon! Wake up!" Ada's face came into focus as he realized that it was only a dream. The nightmares of two years ago still plagued him, even though the mission was a success. "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," he replied. "Just a bad dream." He got up and remembered where they were. After escaping the S facility with Jill Valentine in tow, they headed west until they came upon another small ghost town.

Jill had been thought dead, but S had saved her by picking her up in a helicopter just seconds before Raccoon City exploded in a fiery blaze. After she got back to the S facility, she was being used as a guinea pig for their sick experiments. Fortunately for her, the troupe rescued her from a disparaging life as a lab rat.

It was three o'clock in the morning, and all was quiet. Jill and Chris were sleeping in a corner, Jill propped up against Chris' chest. Obviously, they were more than partners during the Spencer Mansion incident. Luis was sitting in a dilapidated lounge chair, scribbling notes furiously. Ada was standing in the middle of the room, looking at Leon with a look of concern.

Leon stood up, brushing the dirt off of his pants. For three days they had been traveling by night toward Egypt, hoping to board a plane in Cairo that took them home to the United States. Unfortunately, Luis could never go home, as the village he lived in was bombed off the map as Leon barely escaped by motorboat. He was now living in an apartment in New York, which, coincidentally, was the new home of the Hive II.

Waking the others up, Leon headed out the door, to Ada's sports car. It was his turn to drive. He held the key chain in one hand, shaking his head as he looked at the teddy bear attached to her car keys.

They all piled in, Ada riding shotgun, Jill wedged between Chris and Luis in the backseat. "Where exactly are we?" asked Jill, checking out her surroundings. Leon replied, "We're averaging 100 miles a day, so we are approximately 600 miles from the Egyptian border. Unfortunately, we have to cut right through Sudan. The civil unrest there will make that Nemesis thing the least of our worries." "Sorry I asked."

Later in the day, they crossed the border between Zaire and Sudan. Chris and Luis were discussing the effects of a centrifuge on a Salmonella germ. Jill sat in silence, looking bored. Leon sat, listening, as Ada spilled the beans on her involvement with S.

"I was a double agent," she began, "Working for Mr. Spencer, but making Wesker think that I worked for him." "What about Krauser?" Leon asked. "He's as loyal as a puppy. He spends so much time with his lips glued to Wesker's ass that if Wesker stopped short, Krauser's head would disappear."

Leon chuckled dryly at this comment. That was always her style, humorous, but still sly. He felt a twinge of apprehension in his stomach. "I really should ask her out. We have mutual feelings for each other. Why not?"

Just as he was about to take the plunge, their car barreled straight into a huge mass of flesh standing in the middle of the road. The car flipped, sending sheared bits of metal all over the road.

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Krauser sat before Wesker, his head bowed, ashamed of his actions. "Can't you follow simple orders?" Wesker asked him. "I'm sorry sir, I--" Krauser began, but was cut short by an angry outburst from Wesker. "I SEND YOU, THE BEST SOLDIER I HAVE, TO KILL A MEASLY S.T.A.R.S. MEMBER, A WOMAN, AND A METROSEXUAL POLICE OFFICER, AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT?"

"It won't happen again, sir," Krauser said in a meek voice. "It certainly won't," said Wesker in a bone-chilling quiet voice. He took off his sunglasses to reveal his unnatural yellow eyes. Krauser anticipated what was going to happen, but before he could act, clamps encircled his wrists, pinning him to the chair. Wesker pulled a silenced handgun from his camel's-hair coat pocket. Taking careful aim, he fired at Krauser's temple. Krauser's scream was cut short as the hot slug entered his temporal lobe, killing the Las Plagas parasite housed within his head. Jack Krauser was finally free.

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Chris was the first one to exit the vehicle, followed by Ada, Leon, Jill, and finally Luis. Unholstering their weapons, they turned to face what they ran into.

The hulking mass of Nemesis was standing erect in the middle of the road, unfazed by a 2000-pound car slamming into its face. It turned slowly to face the group. Its eyes turned red as its aiming system locked on to them. Just before it fired, they dived behind the car.

The rocket slammed into a tree, felling it. The heavy oak slammed into Nemesis with a metallic crunch. Nemesis went down bodily, crushed by the weight of the tree. As suddenly as the tree hit him, the tree was propelled into the air by a shove by Nemesis.

The group stared at this, slack-jawed. Wasting no time, they drew their respective weapons and fired upon the mass of flesh and bone. Nemesis was unfazed as he approached them, weapons drawn.

Just then, a large truck blew past them, slamming into Nemesis with a sickening crunch. Nemesis, already weakened by the first auto crash and the oak tree, was instantly killed by the big truck.

The group ran over to the truck, which was totaled and wrapped around a tree. Inside the cab was none other than Jack Krauser, minus the beret. His face was bloodied and his breathing was ragged. Apparently, the gunshot wound had not killed him, but started a bleed in his head, causing him to slowly exsanguiate. He had stolen one of the S trucks and drove here as fast as he could.

"I'm sorry. For everything," Krauser said, obviously on his last breath. "I now see the error of my ways. I hope what I just did can right all the wrongs that I did to you."

Jack Krauser died with a look of peace on his face. Finally, all his sins were atoned for.

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"DAMN!" Wesker roared as he saw the truck barrel into Nemesis. He had assumed Krauser dead, but what he saw contradicted this. "BOBBY!" Wesker shouted at his secretary. The man's meek face appeared in the doorway.

Under control once again, Wesker said, "I need you to tell the researchers to come up with a more efficient killing machine. I need it finished within a week." "Yes, sir!"

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PART FOUR: THE PHOENIX STRAIN

The group stood around the smoldering remains of Jack Krauser and Nemesis. After a while, they continued on, walking now that their car was totaled. Only Leon hung back to look upon his old friend's face once more. Then, he too turned and walked away.

"According to the map, we are now 550 miles from the Egypt border. The average mileage of a man per day is 30 miles. That gives us about two weeks to get to that border," said Leon. Ada turned to him with a puzzled look on her face. "How are we going to get there, walking?" Leon sighed. Even with her life at stake, Ada was still high maintenance.

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Chelsea cringed under the intense heat emanating from the lamps in the lab. Lab work could really suck at times. But, she was getting paid top dollar to do research for Umbrella, so it was worth it.

She pushed a lock of blonde hair out of her face and turned to the matter at hand. She was told to find an efficient and cost-effective way to "program" a virus to make the infected person grow armor plates on all surfaces of the human body.

She accessed her computer, looked at the spinning double helix of a DNA strand, and then sat up with a look of victory on her face. She had done it.

"HEY RACHEL! I DID IT!" she shouted to her friend Rachel, who was working two cubicles over from her. Rachel rushed over, her usual hyperactive self. "Did what?"

"I found the answer for the armor plates. You take…" The rest doesn't bear repeating because it would put the average reader in a dazed stupor.

When she finished, the elevator door slid open and into the lab stepped Albert Wesker. "How is the project coming along?" he asked in his usual quiet monotone. Momentarily caught off guard, Chelsea looked around and then said, "Fine, sir. I finished the armor plate programming, and Rachel here is almost done with the musculoskeletal system."

"Excellent. I want the creature ready for transport by Friday. Oh, and one other question. What are you going to name it?"

Chelsea thought long and hard. The only thing that popped into her head was her old parrot's name. "Phoenix."

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They passed a shriveled old tree by the side of the road. It was getting late, so Chris told the group, "We can sleep here tonight." No one objected.

As they prepared to bed down for the night, Leon's thoughts turned to Ada. Before they slammed into Nemesis, he was going to ask her out. Or, rather, ask her to date him, because they weren't going to go "out" anywhere in the near future. He decided once more that he was going to do it. He was going to ask her out.

He walked uneasily over to where Ada was preparing her bedroll. "Ada," he began, "I was wondering…do you think that we…"

The rest of his words were drowned out by the sound of a helicopter suddenly appearing overhead. It was jet black and had the U.S. Air Force symbol emblazoned on the side. A voice came from the interior of the chopper. It was the voice of Secretary of State James Smallwood.

"We're here to evac you to the States! Clear out so we can land!" The group complied hastily, scarcely believing their luck. They climbed into the chopper and sat down on the lavish leather interior. Luis made a sighing noise, a sound of contentment. "Now this is more like it. Finally, Americans with style." Leon replied, "Up yours, Sera!"

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Wesker opened the door to the testing bunker for Umbrella. Taking a seat at one of the bulletproof windows, he watched as a door opened on the other side. Out stepped something that he had never seen before.

The thing stood on all fours, but was capable of running on two. It had bony armor plates covering all of its body except for the backs of its knees, claws capable of squeezing at a force exceeding 5000 PSI, and an advanced HUD. It was shaped like a scorpion, but it didn't have a tail. Like Nemesis, it was equipped with an array of weapons, from rocket launcher to submachine gun.

The door opened a second time, and a disheveled Chelsea Gillenwater stepped in, checked the monstrosity's vital signs and systems, and then gave Wesker thumbs up. She hastily retreated through the door, and a few minutes later entered the viewing room.

"All systems are go," she said breathlessly. Wesker pushed a button on the dashboard, and a door opened on the far wall, revealing a large goat. The goat bleated in curiosity and moved closer to the Phoenix.

With astounding speed, the Phoenix sprang toward the goat. Crying out in fear, the goat tried to run away, but was caught in the powerful claws of the Phoenix. With a sickening crunch, the cries were cut short. Chelsea muttered, "Oh, God," and wordlessly blew her breakfast all over the viewing room floor. Wesker sat, watching, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

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Sitting around the table in Luis' apartment in New York, Luis, Ada, Leon, Chris, and Jill ate a hearty breakfast. Luis burped and leaned back in his chair, tugging on his belt loops. "My, My, Denny's can cook up a fine breakfast. Another redeeming feature of this God-forsaken town."

Chris sat forward and asked, "So where is the new Umbrella Hive, anyway?" Leon answered, "It's supposed to be deep underneath the Museum of Natural History, in the catacombs somewhere. We need to be prepared this time."

Luis once again asked if anyone had a cigarette, but of course, no one did. Standing up and stretching, he said, "I'm going to the 7-11. Anyone want anything? No? Ok, Leon, feed the dog, would you?"

After Luis left, Leon got up to feed the old sack of bones that Luis called his dog. Named Toro, the thing had to have been around when Gorbachev tore down the Berlin wall. Scrabbling on the linoleum floor, Toro got up and started eating. Leon turned away and walked toward the living room, where the sounds of a popular game show were emitting from the small TV in the room. Tomorrow, he said to himself, they were going to pay back Umbrella for all they had done to them.

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PART FIVE: PLAN A

Chelsea stood on her knees in a bathroom stall in the employee's bathroom and retched once more, but from her stomach came no food. She had deposited it all out on the viewing room floor when Phoenix killed the goat.

She had made up her mind then that she would do all in her power to stop Umbrella's horrible genetic testing. She would be an inside man (well, woman) and inform the US government of what was going on. Little did she know that Umbrella was sanctioned and funded by the US government.

She exited the bathroom and walked quickly toward the file room. A long night was in store for her.

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The car rolled along Broadway as Leon, Luis, and Chris neared the Museum of Natural History. The women had been left behind because, well, they were women.

"How are we going to get in?" Chris asked. Leon unrolled some blueprints and studied them carefully. "We'll infiltrate through the sewer grate here. The pipes will take us directly to the tunnels below the museum, where we will hopefully find the Umbrella headquarters."

The three men got out of the car and checked their weapons for problems. Then, Chris went over to a sewer grate and sawed through it with a small saw that clipped to his belt. He attached a rope to a light pole nearby and soon they were in the sewer system.

They walked for what seemed like forever until they came upon a blatantly obvious steel door marked, "UMBRELLA HEADQUARTERS. KEEP OUT." "Oh, my God," said Luis, "This is too damn easy. There has to be a catch." There was a catch. A 500-pound, four-legged catch.

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Chelsea rubbed her eyes and looked at the time. It was 2:00 AM. She had finally finished copying the files necessary to implicate Umbrella in their schemes. She stood up and prepared to leave.

Suddenly, an alarm started to blare, causing the control panel in front of her to light up like a Christmas tree. She considered calling Wesker, but no doubt he would wonder what she had been doing late at night in the file room.

She decided to leave as quickly as possible, until she remembered one crucial fact. If someone were to infiltrate the Umbrella facility, Plan A would take effect.

Plan A was the contingency plan if the Hive were infiltrated. It involved the releasing of dozens of Progenator-zombies to ward off unsuspecting trespassers. Chelsea decided to lock her doors and wait until the problem was taken care of.

She walked over to the control panel and hit a few buttons. The security camera's live feeds popped onto the screen. She saw three dark figures stealthily making their way down the hallway. One of them pointed at the camera, and then with a pop the camera went out, but not before she saw the face of the man who shot the camera. It was her presumed-dead husband Luis Sera.

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The men were making good time for the labs when the shuffling sounds of feet were heard emanating from around the corner. None of the men were strangers to the sounds of a zombie, so they faced the threat with ironclad resolve.

The zombies appeared around the corner as shadows, fading into coherent shapes when they neared. There seemed to be about a dozen of them, and the group wasted no time firing away.

The zombies in the second row stumbled over the first row's dead (?) bodies, and some of them fell. Ignoring them, Luis stepped forward and fired a round into the nearest one's forehead. The bullet exited the back of the creature's head, bringing bits of skin and brain and bone with it. The zombie slumped into a sitting position against the wall. Luis turned to face the other standing zombie. Chris quickly dispatched it and reloaded quickly. Leon pulled his 9MM and fired quickly into the writhing prone zombies, quickly ending their miserable post-lives.

"Not bad, chaps," said Luis, spitting out a wad of chewing tobacco with disgust. Suddenly, they heard a metallic clanking echoing from the same corner.

"Shit, now what?"

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Chelsea rapidly switched to another camera and watched the scene unfold. It sure was Luis, no doubt about it. The long stringy hair helped vindicate this, but there was no mistaking that heavy Spanish accent.

"I MUST get to him," she said to herself. He was near the labs, about 3000 feet from where she stood. She could make it in less than five minutes if she ran. She unlocked the door and began to run down the hallway.

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The clanking noise grew louder as the team watched. Then, it resolved itself into the form of the Phoenix.

"HOLY SHIT!" shouted Luis. After the initial moment of astonishment, the group opened fire, but to no avail as the creature's bony plates deflected the bullets. The group turned and ran, but was stopped in their tracks by a short woman with blonde hair and a bad British accent.

Luis opened his mouth in astonishment. It was Chelsea.

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Wesker drove like a maniac towards the facility, gloved hands gripping the steering wheel in the classic ten-and-two position. He had done too much to let those nuisances reveal everything that he had worked so hard to keep under cover. Did Chelsea really think that he didn't know what she was up to? And those moronic S.T.A.R.S. members, coupled with that womanizing Spaniard. Did they really think they would get away with the sample? Please. He would take care of them soon. Quite soon.

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PART SIX: RESOLUTION

Chelsea grabbed Luis' hand. "There's no time! Let's go!" Luis obliged, look of wonder still on his face.

They rounded another corner, the thing in hot pursuit, when they were faced with a problem. The hallway was blocked by a giant security door made of solid steel. "¡Mierda!" spouted a breathless Luis.

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Wesker sprinted down the hallway towards the security room. Rounding a corner, he pulled his silenced 9MM handgun from its holster, finally unsheathing it. He turned another corner, only to be confronted with the aforementioned scene.

The people gasped in surprise as Wesker came into view. Wesker smiled sardonically, then said to Chelsea, "Hello, my little traitor. I see you've been busy. I've taken the liberty of calling off your little Phoenix so this can be a little more personal. I only wish you could have stayed on the right track. You could have been a real asset to Umbrella."

And with that being said, he pressed his gun to her forehead and pulled the trigger. Luis cried out in surprise and anguish at what had just happened. He had been reunited with his wife, only to have her ripped away by the man in black, Wesker.

"¡BASTARDO!" he screamed, tears streaking his face. He watched the scene unfold around him as first Leon then Chris received bullets to their temples.

Saving him for last, Wesker savored the moment. All his troubles were now about to come to a crashing end. He took careful aim at the Spaniard's temple and slowly applied pressure to the trigger. "Goodbye, Luis. I hope you have a nice afterlife." Wesker pulled the trigger.

**AND THEN, LUIS WOKE UP…**

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I owe a lot to the writing styles of Douglas Preston, Lincoln Child, L. Loire and Macarthur Inbody. Without them, this story would have turned out very different. Also, I'd like to thank CAPCOM and the Resident Evil team for giving me so much inspiration. I would also like to thank Jordan, Joseph, and Eric for their help and encouragement and Chelsea and Rachel for their character insights.

The third book in the Sera Trilogy will be coming soon, so keep your pants on.

Until Next Time,

Adam Nickels


	3. BOOK 3: A DREAM DEFERRED

TITLE: RESIDENT EVIL: A DREAM DEFERRED: BOOK THREE OF THE SERA TRILOGY

AUTHOR: ADAM NICKELS

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here it is! The final book in one of the most captivating trilogies since _The Lord Of The Rings_! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. This has been a fulfilling experience for me. Thank you all for the rave reviews so far. Keep 'em coming! That being said, I dedicate this book and trilogy to all the hardcore Resident Evil fans out there. You know who you are. To those of you that can tell me how many teeth the Grave Digger in Code: Veronica and The Umbrella Chronicles has, I tip my hat to you. You are truly hardcore. And yes, that's a challenge!

On with the story!

Adam Nickels

CHAPTER ONE: THE AWAKENING

Luis woke up screaming his dead wife's name into the darkness of the room he was in. He screamed for what seemed like hours and hours, lamenting the loss of his closest friends at the hands of an evil genius named Albert Wesker. Then, he realized it was only a dream.

_Madre de Dios, that was a bad dream! I don't have a wife at all, especially one named Chelsea! Leon doesn't like Ada! He's married to Claire Redfield! Why would I dream something like that? Must have been something I ate._

Luis got up and stumbled toward the bathroom of his small flat in downtown Moscow. He had begun renting it after he narrowly survived the ordeal at Salazar Castle in rural Spain.

Splashing water on his face, he surveyed his face in the mirror. He really needed to shave.

_Too bad I don't have a razor. Oh, well. Maybe good ol' Sergei will up my pay one of these days._

Sergei Vladimir was Luis' boss. After getting back from Spain, Luis took a job at Blatvask, a pharmaceutical company that specialized in painkillers. It suited his expertise as a scientist, and the pay wasn't that bad, either.

_Hell, sixty grand a year isn't that bad. I really should ask him for a raise, though._

Luis walked slowly back to his bedroom and began to dress for the day. Even though the doctors said he had made a full recovery from being impaled by Saddler, he still felt a twinge of pain emanating from his chest from time to time.

Fully dressed in black slacks and a blue dress shirt with a yellow tie, Luis stepped out his front door and into the midst of early morning mayhem as cars competed for a place in the never ending line of traffic.

_God, I'm glad I don't have a car._

Blatvask was only about five blocks from Luis' apartment, so he walked to work every day.

_Keeps me in shape. Otherwise, with all the beer I drink, I would weigh a good three hundred pounds right now!_

Taking in the sights around him, he turned left and began to walk.

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Luis approached the front desk and signed in, beginning the workday. Luis worked eight-hour shifts every day for a week, then he had the next week off. Today was his last day this week.

_Ah, I wonder what I'll do next week? Visit Leon in Nice, maybe?_

After the Illuminados incident, Leon had taken a job as a police officer in Nice, France. He still kept in touch with Ashley, albeit as a friend, and nothing more. Leon was devoted to Claire, Chris' little sister.

In the months after the Illuminados incident, Luis had been introduced to most of the Raccoon City survivors, including Leon (obviously), Chris, Jill, Barry, and Ada (just as obviously). He had been informed on all of the evil doings of the corporation Umbrella and the leaders of the evil organization, including Wesker, Ozwell Spencer, and Edward Ashford.

After being brought up to speed, Luis decided to get his feet on the ground before helping the opposition in their plans to thwart the schemes of Umbrella, which is exactly what he was doing at Blatvask.

He reached a simple wooden door with a brass plate on it. The plate said, simply, "Luis Raval." Raval was the surname that he had assumed out of fear of being caught by Umbrella.

Unlocking the door with a key attached to a massive key ring that would have made a dungeon master proud, Luis plodded in and plopped down at his desk. He had a lot of paperwork to fill out. It was going to be a long day.

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Leon approached the red sports car from behind in his standard issue Crown Victoria squad car. A brief check with dispatch told him that the car was indeed stolen.

Turning on his siren, he put on his loudspeaker. In an authoritative voice, he boomed, "SIR! PLEASE EXIT THE VEHICLE AND PLACE YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!"

The criminal obviously took no heed to his words and stepped on the gas. Leon groaned loudly and floored the gas pedal, easily catching up to the criminal's stolen car.

_Son of a bitch! France has its fair share of criminals, that's for sure!_

Leon decided to cut the car off. Edging past it, he got a glimpse of the driver. The driver held Leon's gaze as Leon looked into the face of the woman who refused to die, Ada Wong!

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Luis sighed as the clock's hour hand reached the five. It was time to hit the bar. Gathering his briefcase and coat, Luis closed his office door and locked it. Whistling as he walked, he approached Sergei Vladimir's office, intent on asking for a raise. Vladimir was deep in conversation with someone with a mellifluous voice, with just a trace of a British accent. Not wanting to disturb him, Luis waited patiently outside of his office. Inadvertently, he overheard the conversation inside. The stranger's voice spoke first.

"My dear Sergei, although Ozwell and Edward trust you, I don't."

Luis stiffened and leaned forward, eager to catch more of the conversation.

_Ozwell and Edward are common names. He couldn't be talking about _them_, could he?_

Vladimir's voice spoke next.

"And I don't trust you, either, Wesker. But, more pressing matters weigh more heavily than our personal differences. The production of the Ivan Tyrant has been halted. Why?"

Luis nearly shit himself when he heard this exchange.

_Holy God! Somehow, Sergei is involved with Umbrella!_

Wesker responded, "You only need three for your bodyguards. Any more, and Ashford will think you are raising a personal army!"

"Well, maybe I am."

Wesker started to reply, then made a coughing noise. The two men approached the door.

Luis stepped back as if he had just arrived and had not heard the conversation.

_Oh, shit! Here they come!_

The door opened, and out into the hall stepped Sergei Vladimir and a much taller man, obviously Wesker. Wesker was a tall man of about six-foot-five, with reddish-blonde hair slicked back severely from his forehead. He was wearing a black camel's-hair suit with matching pants. Dark sunglasses bridged his straight nose, and as Luis watched, he pushed back the glasses with a gloved finger.

Vladimir took notice of Luis for the first time. He brightened immediately, but Luis felt his stomach drop to the floor. There was no way that Wesker wouldn't recognize him immediately.

Sergei gestured toward Luis and said, "Mr. Wesker, this is my Production Manager, Luis Raval. Luis, this is Albert Wesker."

Luis was sweating rivets by now.

_What should I do! Oh, shit!_

Wesker glanced at Luis, a small look of surprise briefly flashing across his face, but vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

"Luis…Raval, is it? It is a pleasure to meet you." Wesker extended a gloved hand. Luis shook the proffered hand limply, happy that Wesker didn't give him away, at least not immediately.

Wesker glared at Luis for a long time, his lensed eyes boring holes into Luis'. Then, he said, "Well, my dear Sergei, I'll be seeing you soon. Goodbye for now."

With that parting shot, Wesker glided down the hallway and out of sight. Luis breathed a sigh of relief, glad that that ordeal was over.

_Man, that was a close one. I have no doubt that Wesker will be wanting to talk to me later._

"What brings you here, Luis?"

Luis was snapped back from the depths of thought by Vladimir's question. He took a deep breath, remembering what he originally came here to do.

_Here goes nothing._

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Wesker walked out of the office building and to his waiting vehicle, vintage Rolls-Royce Silver Wraith. He contemplated how Luis _possibly_ could have survived the bombing of the Pueblo and surrounding areas.

_The only other people to escape the island alive were Ada, Leon, and the brat. He couldn't have left with Leon and Ashley, so..._

The realization hit him like a bolt of lightning. Ada was a traitor.

Wesker started his car and peeled out of the parking lot, fuming.

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Leon motioned for Ada to pull over. He still couldn't comprehend running into her here, in Nice, of all places. She nodded in agreement and pulled over to the side of the road. Leon got out of the car, wondering what he would say to her.

_Here goes..._

The window rolled down, and Ada's features came into view. She was a beautiful woman of Asian descent. She wore her trademark red dress. Her features lit up as she turned to speak.

"Leon. It's been a while."

Leon replied, "Tell me about it. Where've you been, and why is this car reported stolen?"

Ada, as mysterious as ever, answered with, "Some things are better off not knowing. This is one of them."

She peeled out of the margin of the road, tires spinning. Leon, a surprised look on his face, grunted, then smiled dimly.

"Women!"

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Luis walked out of Vladimir's office, beaming. He had gotten his raise, and more. He was offered an apartment in relatively the same area of Moscow, but this time Blatvask was paying.

_Well, I hoped good ol' Sergei would cough up, and he did! Damn, I need a drink!_

Luis opened the front door and stepped out into the afternoon sun, still beaming. Then, he saw a man that made his smile falter.

_Wesker._

Wesker walked toward Luis, a smirk on his face. Adjusting his shades with a finger, he said, "Sera. I didn't think you made it out alive. Ada must have been very attached to you."

Luis, nonplussed, replied, "Ada is a good person."

Wesker's expression suddenly turned to one of annoyance. "Good person or not," he said, "She will still have to die." 

The expression on Luis' face said it all to Wesker. He bade Luis goodbye and walked back to his car.

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CHAPTER TWO: DEATH OF A TURNCOAT

Wesker sat down at his control panel, placing his hands on the controls. He pulled up a map of Europe and easily located Ada by the RFID chip implanted in her shoulder.

_Score one for modern technology._

She seemed to be holed up in the slums of Nice.

_No matter. I'll have to get a different car to go into the ass of Nice, though._

"Bobby!" Wesker fairly shouted. A small, harried, balding man popped into view.

"Yes sir?" He said meekly. Like almost everyone else, except for the abominable Chris Redfield, he was very afraid of Albert Wesker.

"Get me a real ass of a car."

"Yes, sir!"

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Ada sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands in the ass of a motel that she was staying in. Seeing Leon had really shook her up. She was genuinely in love with him, but knew she couldn't have him. He was Claire's.

_What am I going to do about him? Should I tell him?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knocking at the door. She stood up, gun in hand, and tentatively opened the door. On the veranda stood Albert Wesker. She lowered her gun and put it on the dilapidated dresser near the door, then motioned him in. Wesker stooped to enter the low doorframe, then closed the door swiftly and drew his gun, pointing it at Ada's forehead.

Ada gasped, knowing that the jig was up. He had found out.

"Ms. Wong, you are trying my patience. I was good enough to rescue you from Raccoon City, but how do you repay me?" His voice grew increasingly louder. He was losing his temper, a rarity for him. "HOW DO YOU REPAY ME!"

He walked toward her, forcing her to take a step back. He reached into his custom-tailored camel's-hair sport coat and pulled out a silencer. Screwing it on his pistol, he took careful aim at the spot between Ada's angular eyes.

"Any last words?"

Ada, scared out of her mind, opened her mouth to speak. Wesker interrupted her. "I didn't think so."

Without remorse, Albert Wesker pulled the trigger.

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Stealthily, Chris crept toward the figure, his boots not making a noise. Standing up behind the lone figure, he suddenly wrapped his arms around the woman, startling her.

Jill turned and slugged Chris on the shoulder in mock anger. Chris shrugged and said, "Gotcha!"

Jill, a little irritated, exclaimed, "Chris! Don't startle me like that!"

Chris shrugged again and replied, "I just wanted to tell you that our flight to Russia departs tomorrow morning at 6:00." They were going to the Umbrella lab in southern Russia as part of a Biohazard Cleanup Team who's purpose was to kill all of the BOWs, or Bio-Organic Organisms, that Umbrella made.

Jill looked even angrier as she said, "Couldn't you have gotten a later flight?"

Chris replied, "No. They were all booked."

Jill decided to call it a night. Turning the light off, she said goodnight and rolled over. Although the light was out, she didn't get to sleep for many hours, as flashbacks from the Arklay mansion incident haunted her dreams.

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Luis laughed as Leon stuffed a whole piece of pizza into his gaping mouth at once. Luis was a guest at the house of Leon Kennedy and Claire Redfield. They sat around the dinner table.

Finally swallowing the massive piece of cheesy goodness, Leon said, "Told you I could do it. Your turn, Claire!"

Claire laughed and shook her head. "No way. I'm full."

Luis picked up a piece and said, "That's no excuse!"

The jubilation was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Leon got up and opened the door. On the porch stood his brother-in-law, Chris, and Chris' girlfriend/S.T.A.R.S. partner, Jill Valentine. He welcomed them in with a smile and gestured to the empty seats at the table. "Please, sit!"

Not wanting to waste any time, Chris began, "Guys, I'll get to the point. Jill and I are leaving for Russia soon."

Leon asked the question on everyone's mind.

"Why?"

Chris started to respond, but Jill cut him off.

"Let's just say it's classified."

Luis suddenly remembered his exchange with Wesker at Vladimir's office. Clearing his throat to get attention, he said, "I may know why."

That made everyone stop talking. Directing his question to Chris, he asked, "Does it have anything to do with Sergei Vladimir and a secret Umbrella base?"

The look on Chris' face told it all.

"I work for Sergei Vladimir at Blatvask, AKA Umbrella," Luis said by way of explanation.

Leon interrupted the exchange. "Let me go with you."

Chris shook his head and said no firmly. Leon didn't ask again. Chris was one of the few people he was truly uneasy about. A good two inches taller than Leon and twenty pounds heavier, Chris was a force to be reckoned with.

"Only Jill and I can go," Chris said to no one in particular.

Claire stood up and embraced her brother. "Come back safe, ok?"

Chris' impassive face softened under the worshipful stare of his sister. "No problem, sis."

Chris and Jill stood up to go. Everyone bid them farewell. They walked out the door, not uttering another word.

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The plane touched down in Novosibirsk the next day. Chris and Jill exited the plane slowly. They were tired from the 15-hour flight from New York.

Chris turned to Jill. "Where's Barry?"

As if answering his question, a booming voice replied, "Over here, guys!"

Jill and Chris turned to see their good friend and S.T.A.R.S. partner Barry Burton grinning back at them.

Barry was a great bear of a man. Good natured and compassionate, and with a strong sense of duty, he immediately volunteered to come to Russia to infiltrate the Umbrella facility there.

They drove to their hotel (If you could call it that) and checked in for the night. Tomorrow night, the nightmares would end.

Tomorrow night, someone was going to die.

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CHAPTER THREE: MANAGEMENT CHANGE

Wesker had just finished putting on his riot gear when Bobby entered his office.

Wesker turned to face Bobby. Wesker's trademark sunglasses were on his desk, and his unnatural yellow eyes flared as he asked, "What is it? This better be important."

Bobby cringed slightly, then replied, "The helicopter you ordered is fueled and ready, sir."

Wesker's face formed something of an evil grin. "Very good. I'll be leaving within the hour."

"I'll tell the pilot, sir."

With that, Bobby left the room hurriedly. Wesker chuckled to himself.

_Scarin' the crap out of them wherever I go._

His thoughts turned to the imminent destruction of Umbrella. The unstoppable Chris Redfield and that bitch of his, Valentine, were hell bent on destroying the Russian Facility. Who was Wesker to stop them?

So, Wesker had formulated a plan. While Red Queen, the defense system, was preoccupied with Redfield and Valentine, Wesker would silently slip in and steal U.M.F.-013, the computer that stored all the files and information for Umbrella. Then, he would erase all the data on the Umbrella mainframe and hightail it out of there.

After forty years, it was time for a management change.

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The chopper cut through the winter night sky, toward its destination, Umbrella HQ. Jill and Chris were sitting in the belly of the 'copter, checking their weapons for any problems.

Jill opened her mouth to speak, but was cut short by the chopper's erratic flight pattern. The helicopter had cut a hard right, throwing her forward. When she recovered, she spoke.

"I hope we make it out of this. Do you think the new B.O.W. is a reality?"

Chris thought for a moment and replied, "I really hope this new bio-weapon is just a rumor."

They neared their destination. Dropping high-tensile steel wire out of the helicopter, they dropped soundlessly into the compound, just outside of the Umbrella-built building.

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Wesker clipped his slider onto the cable that connected to the bottom of the elevator. Holding on tightly, he slid all the way down to the bottom, where he pried the doors open. He cursed, noticing a rip in the fabric of his coat.

He stepped into a room used as a loading dock of sorts for all the chemicals used in Umbrella's testing. He was on edge, mainly because Sergei had unleashed all the Bio-Organic Weapons he had at his disposal in an effort to deter the coming invasion.

The loading dock connected to a long, curving tunnel. At the other end of this tunnel was the door to the silos, storage units for the chemicals.

But between Wesker and that door was one of Umbrella's more tenacious BOWs.

Wesker felt like he had been walking for hours when he turned the corner and saw the double doors leading to the silos. Sighing with relief, he began to walk toward the door.

Just then, something descended from the ceiling, screeching all the way. Wesker knew what it was. In fact, he had helped develop it. It was an infected bat.

Four times the size of a normal bat, the thing could easily kill a man. However, Wesker was more than a man. Wesker smirked to himself.

_Is this all you've got, Vlad? I expected more from you!_

Wesker took careful aim and fired at the bat's left wing, the wing closest to him. He knew that, once the bat was robbed of flight, it was useless as a weapon.

The infected bat plummeted from the air, screeching and flapping its one good wing erratically. Wesker approached tentatively and nudged the bat with a boot. The bat squealed and bit his boot, but did not penetrate the hard leather. Cursing, Wesker put another bullet in the creature and stopped its cries.

Opening the door, he stepped into the hangar area, and was confronted with a scene that he never expected to see.

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Luis tossed and turned, but could not get to sleep. The horrible dreams of Los Illuminados prevented that.

_Screw it. I'll just go to work early._

Getting out of bed slowly, Luis made his way toward the bathroom. After going through the necessary bathroom rituals, he entered the bedroom once more.

He hummed the Mission: Impossible theme while getting dressed. Finally in full work attire, he stepped out the door, in a good mood of sorts.

_Damn, it's early. I guess I'll have breakfast at the coffee shop._

Still humming to himself, Luis turned and walked down the sidewalk, fully enjoying the crisp winter morning.

What he didn't notice, however, was the Umbrella Special Forces agent silently tailing him.

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Special agent HUNK sniffed the air, smelling something burning. He quickly pinpointed the distraction: A group of homeless people was crowded around a burning barrel, trying to combat the cold winter morning. They gave him an odd look and turned back to the fire.

_Must be wondering why a guy in riot gear and a gas mask is taking a stroll on their street. Oh, well. Screw 'em._

HUNK was tailing Luis Sera, under orders by Wesker to kill him. Sera turned a corner, and HUNK decided that a little subterfuge was to be put into play here.

HUNK was the survivor of countless missions given to him by Umbrella. Unlike those pussy UBCS forces, USF was a special ops sect of Umbrella's private militia. HUNK was the most decorated of all the USF members. He had survived many missions, and in most of them he was the only one to survive, earning him nicknames like "Mr. Death," and "Grim Reaper." He had long ago vowed to himself that if the day came that he failed a mission, that day would be his last. Life would not be worth living.

Climbing the dividing wall, HUNK decided to surprise the unfortunate Spaniard.

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Luis strolled down the street happily, enjoying the sights and sounds of downtown Moscow. He heard a sound behind him.

Spinning around, he saw nothing. Shrugging, he turned back around and got the shock of his life.

A man in army fatigues and a gas mask complete with helmet was standing in front of him. A steel helmet with the word U.S.F. was resting atop the man's head. Motioning with the machine pistol that he had trained on Sera, he pointed to the bushes that ensconced the side of the road.

Hesitantly, Sera moved into the bushes.

When they got under cover of the foliage, the man in the gas mask studied Luis for a second, as if contemplating what to do. Then, he took off the mask.

The man had short brown hair and dull brown eyes. He had a scar running down one side of his face, and his nose was slightly off center, as if it had been broken at one point in time. Then, the man spoke.

"Luis Sera. I am sorry for what I am about to do. But I must. You are a threat to Umbrella."

_So that's who he is. He works for Umbrella._

"Any last words?" the man asked before he pulled the trigger.

Luis' mind was spinning. He didn't know what to do. Just then, the foliage parted and a man dived in, on top of the surprised Special Forces agent.

The man was Leon Kennedy.

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Leon dove in, landing on top of the man in combat gear. He had witnessed the exchange from his car, and had gotten out to investigate when the man in riot gear had jumped him.

"You OK?" he asked Luis. By way of reply, Luis fainted. Leon chuckled to himself.

Suddenly, with a burst of strength, the USF agent threw Leon off. Struggling to his feet, Leon watched as the man bit his wristwatch, shattering the crystal. An instant later, the man writhed on the ground in pain, blood pouring from every visible orifice.

HUNK had made good on his promise. Using a potent poison contained within his watch, HUNK had killed himself.

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Wesker entered the room and saw the back of Sergei Vladimir, who was seated at a computer terminal. The terminal was connected to a towering computer array, taking up over a third of the room. Vladimir turned to Wesker and spoke.

"Ah, Wesker! You've come. Oh, by the way, I know of your plot. And, suffice to say, I will not allow it to become a reality. First, you'll have to get through me!"

With that said, Vladimir underwent a frightening transformation. His spine elongated and curved. His forearms melded into one, growing into a large, muscular arm tipped with razor-sharp claws. A giant eye formed near his right arm, and as Wesker watched, it shifted from left to right with a wet slopping sound, as if searching for a victim. The entire transformation had taken all of ten seconds.

Wesker, however, was prepared for this transformation. Pulling a small magnum out of a secret compartment on his tactical vest, he took careful aim and fired at the tumor-like eye.

The BOW round hit the eye dead center, resulting in a spray of yellow matter to erupt from the exploding eye.

The Sergei monster writhed on the ground. Suddenly, hundreds of bony appendages ripped through its skin, resulting in a wave of crimson splashing the surrounding walls.

Sergei Vladimir was no more.

Chuckling, Wesker strode over to the computer terminal. Pulling a removable hard drive from his pocket, he connected it to the computer, then copied all of the data from the Umbrella mainframe to the hard drive.

After double-checking his work, he quickly erased the U.M.F.-013 and turned to leave.

Wesker chuckled to himself again as he made the trek to the roof, to his waiting transport.

Contract: Terminated.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Chris and Jill stood in front of a door marked, T-A.L.O.S. DO NOT ENTER. The room marked the exact center of the Umbrella structure, and subsequently was the area where they needed to place the explosives to level the place.

Opening the door, they stepped inside to a semi-familiar sight.

In the midst of the random assortment of wires and cables stood a hulking BOW. This was T-A.L.O.S.

Built on a Tyrant base, T-A.L.O.S., or Tyrant Armored Lethal Organic System, was the next generation of BOW. Fully equipped with heavy armor and weapons, and a computer chip implant in its brain, the behemoth was without a doubt the most lethal thing that Umbrella had ever engineered.

Unfortunately, that behemoth was now intent on killing the dynamic duo.

An enormous rocket launcher detached itself from the beast's back, and the beast took aim and fired at the S.T.A.R.S. members.

The agents dove out of the way just in time, the rocket slamming into the wall behind them with an explosive _thump._ They wasted no time and opened fire on T-A.L.O.S.

The monster was thrown by the fire of the heavy machine guns that the S.T.A.R.S. agents fired at them. Finally succumbing to the gunfire, T-A.L.O.S. fell to its knees, seemingly defeated.

Chris scoffed. "That was easy."

But it was not so.

The many cables that surrounded T-A.L.O.S. came to life, snaking around the tenacious BOW. Picking him up off the ground, the cables lifted T-A.L.O.S. high in the air. Roaring, the behemoth set about killing the dynamic duo once more.

Only one thought ran through Chris' mind.

_Shit._

T-A.L.O.S. also acquired a new attack, apparently. The monster fired a series of five laser beams at the duo, narrowly missing them and burning a hole in the wall behind them.

Chris immediately saw a way to end the battle. After telling Jill his plan, he put it into action.

Chris dove from cover, much to the delight of the persistent BOW. He yelled, "OVER HERE! KILL ME!"

T-A.L.O.S. was only too happy to oblige. Firing a series of lasers at the man, T-A.L.O.S. sensed that victory was imminent.

T-A.L.O.S. was dead wrong.

Chris dove out of the way, revealing his true plan. He had stood in front of the hole in the wall where the cables snaked from. After he dove out of the way, the lasers hit the naked wires, easily slicing through them.

T-A.L.O.S. emitted one final roar, then fell from his position and lay still on the floor. Umbrella's little secret was finally dead.

Wasting no time the S.T.A.R.S. members set the charges, then hightailed it to the outside of the facility.

They climbed into the escape helicopter, just as the timer reached zero.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

EPILOGUE

Ozwell E. Spencer was a very old man, who needed servants to attend to his every need. Sometimes, those servants would try something funny, and they would have to be "disposed of."

Spencer had just "disposed of" one of those servants. Now, he needed to remove that person's personnel file from the Umbrella database.

Summoning one of his many other servants, he motioned toward the laptop across the room. The man hurriedly ran over to get it for him.

With the machine in his hands, Spencer pulled up the login screen. Spencer entered his username and password, then clicked the login button. A simple monochrome screen appeared on the laptop:

**U.M.F.-013**

**NO DATA**

**XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX**

I would like to thank Chaed and all the reviewers for keeping me going, and Mac Daddy for the encouragement and random facts. In this story, I used the writing styles of L. Loire, S.D. Perry, and Macarthur Inbody. Without them, this story wouldn't have been the same.

Remember: To read is human, to review, divine.

Until next time,

Adam Nickels

"We mortals are but shadows and dust. Death is continuously staring us in the face. All a man can do is smile right back."

Proximo, _Gladiator_


End file.
